


the shield's a metaphor

by fantalaimon



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, M/M, POV Alternating, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 20:04:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6254059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantalaimon/pseuds/fantalaimon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve does his best, Tony thinks too much, they both have a lot of feelings, and it all works out pretty well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Tony had shucked the armor as soon as their spar was over, and Steve was momentarily terrified that he was truly hurt. It had been one of the rare occasions that they actually sparred in full gear, and Steve had gotten wrapped up in the rhythm of the fight, not realizing that he had essentially spaced out for ten minutes until his shield connected with Tony’s shoulder, much harder than Steve ever would have hit him on purpose. The armor definitely needed some repairs now, but Steve was relieved to see, after giving Tony a surreptitious once-over as he took long gulps from a water bottle, that the man himself appeared to be no more banged up than usual.

Tony turned to Steve, who was now in the process of pulling off his cowl, and held out the water bottle.

Steve shook his head. “I’m good, thanks.”

“You don’t need to hydrate like we mere mortals? Now you’re just showing off,” Tony said, snorting, but he seemed happy enough to drink down the remainder of the water. In lieu of pressing the hydration issue, Tony came over with a towel, which Steve was glad to accept from him. It seemed like he worked up more of a sweat during friendly spars with Iron Man than most fights that involved actual supervillains trying to kill them.

It didn’t occur to Steve to be disconcerted by the way Tony remained quietly in his space, even after his task was accomplished, until Tony hummed softly and rested his fingers lightly against the shield that was still attached to Steve’s arm. “You know, it’s kinda funny,” he said, almost too quiet for Steve to hear.

That disrupted Steve’s train of thought enough to narrow his attention to Tony. If they were further apart, Steve might have been fooled by the smile Tony was wearing, but there was only a foot or two of distance between them. Looking down at Tony now, Steve could see the way his lips were pressed together a little too tightly, the way his forehead wrinkled from the pinch of his eyebrows.

Tony wasn’t looking at Steve, though. His gaze was fixed on the shield.

“What’s funny?” Steve asked, sounding more serious than he had intended. He busied himself towelling his hair, trying to appear nonchalant. There might be an issue to be addressed here, but getting somber with Tony so quickly wasn’t the route to take. He spooked like a damn rabbit.

Tony seemed more distracted than bothered, though. Lost in his own thoughts, as usual. His humorless smile stretched wider, and if you asked Steve, he’d say it was starting to look more akin to a grimace. It was unpleasant to look at. “Even with all the time I’ve had to catch up,” Tony said, running his fingers along the ridge of the innermost circle of the shield, “my work still can’t compete with my old man’s.”

Oh boy. Tony was thinking about his father. Steve might not have had the clearest picture of what kind of parent Howard had turned out to be, but he knew enough to know this wasn’t good. He stopped wiping at his face and let towel fall across his shoulders.

“Your work is amazing, Tony,” Steve said, taking a half-step forward. Not enough to jar Tony’s hand from the shield, but enough to bring the two of them a little bit closer to each other. “It’s just--the shield is made from vibranium, right? It’s not a matter of Howard being more capable than you. He had access to the very best materials, stuff no one else could get their hands on. Your dad designed a fine shield, sure, but it’s only as good as it is because of what he already had to work with.”

Tony’s eyebrows went up, gaze now flickering to Steve’s face. His hand dropped from the shield as he focused in on Steve.

“Yeah,” Tony said, slowly, smile softening into something that looked better--more genuine, as he stared at Steve. “He _was_ working with the best, wasn’t he?”

Steve swallowed and nodded, suddenly feeling off balance. “Your work is amazing,” he repeated, because he had to say something. “ _You’re_ amazing. You shouldn’t doubt that.” _Especially not because I hit you really hard,_ Steve didn’t say, trying not to wince. After all, it wasn’t as if Tony hadn’t had plenty of opportunities during the spar to nail Steve in turn, if he had been using his full firepower during the fight.

Tony nodded back, still studying Steve face. “Thanks, Cap,” Tony said. He started to lift his hand, and Steve thought Tony might be about to initiate a hug or a handshake or _something_ , but the hand fell back down to his side, the motion aborted. Tony did smile again, though--expression open and sincere in a way that Steve realized was far too rare a sight--and said, “I appreciate it.”

“Sure. Of course,” Steve said, trying to tamp down on the entirely uncalled-for sense of disappointment that he could feel beginning to swell in his chest.

“Of course,” Tony echoed, then, after a second, stepped closer and sprung onto his toes to press his lips against Steve’s cheek, and then backed away before Steve had even processed what was happening. “You’re amazing too,” he said, arms spread in front of him, and then he turned and took off down the hall at a pace that was too quick to be believably casual.

He didn’t need to rush. Not because there was nothing about Tony kissing him to demonstrate his gratitude and fondness--it wasn’t even on the lips, for God’s sake--that merited fleeing, or because it was a perfectly acceptable display of friendly affection, or because it was fully within the bounds of propriety, or because Steve would never get upset with Tony over something so earnestly done, or because it just shouldn’t be an issue, period. Even though all of those things were entirely true. It was just that it was proving difficult for Steve to sell _himself_ on the ‘it’s not a big deal’ argument with his feet glued to the ground and his tongue lying leaden his mouth, as he watched Tony’s retreating back.

So: Tony really hadn’t needed to rush. Steve could feel the heat in his own cheeks, and, evidently, he couldn’t chased or called after Tony if he had wanted to. 

It was actually quite possible that he had _really_ wanted to.

Steve took a deep breath and dragged a shaky hand through his hair. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest, and it wasn’t because of the exercise.

“Well, fuck,” Steve said to the empty gym.

(Blessedly, the gym did not speak back. Steve wasn’t sure he wouldn’t die of embarrassment if JARVIS tried to talk to him right now.)


	2. Chapter 2

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Tony chanted under his breath as he speed walked, then jogged, then just all-out _sprinted_ to his workshop. “As of now, this room is on _lockdown_ , JARVIS.”

“Certainly, sir. May I ask why?”

“You _know_ why,” Tony said, opting to sit on the floor against the nearest wall, rather than go for any of the numerous other seating possibilities scattered about the room. He buried his face in his hands.

“Because you kissed Captain Rogers?”

Tony groaned and slumped over until he was lying down, his cheek resting against the tile of the floor.

“That seems a tad bit unsanitary,” JARVIS said.

Tony groaned again and covered his face with his arms.

DUM-E came over and poked him. Tony ignored it. DUM-E poked him more. U came over to join in on the fun. Tony finally snapped and sat up, kicking at their rigs.

“ _Go away_ ,” he said.

“Perhaps they’re concerned, sir,” Jarvis said. “They never do seem to get used to your tantrums, even after witnessing so many of them over our many years together.”

“Did I program you to be this cruel? This isn’t a tantrum. This is wallowing.”

“Which, of course, they’ve _never_ seen you do before,” JARVIS said.

“I’m pining, be nice to me,” Tony said.

“Alright,” JARVIS said. Then he stopped talking. DUM-E and U rolled off to make trouble elsewhere. 

Tony slumped back against the wall in relief.

Really, he should have known better.

He had _five minutes_ to wallow in peace before the door to the workshop slid open and Steve stepped inside.

“Hey, Tony,” Steve said, looking deeply uncomfortable.

“JARVIS,” Tony said, making a conscious effort not to grind his teeth. “What happened to lockdown?”

“Lockdown?” Steve asked, stiffening. “Is there danger? The door was open--”

Tony groaned yet again. “Only the danger of a compassionless AI ruining my life.”

JARVIS didn’t speak, but Tony felt there was a particular air of smugness coming off everything in the room that ran on JARVIS’s system. Including the lights. _Especially_ the lights, in fact. Tony scowled.

Steve frowned. He looked concerned.

Tony cleared his throat. “So... what’s up, Capsicle?” His voice didn’t crack, so, as far as Tony was concerned, he did great.

Steve blushed, which would have been cute, if it weren’t most likely because he was embarrassed that he now had to tell Tony to get over his giant gross crush for the good of the team or their friendship or something--oh god, they were still going to be friends, right? Fuck, fuck, fuck. What had Tony been thinking? Feelings existed to be _repressed_ , not talked about or acted on or otherwise acknowledged. (Or, at least, Tony’s feelings did. This philosophy did not apply to the world in general.)

“Uh,” Steve said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I haven’t really--that is, I haven’t _much_ \--I don’t actually know the best way--”

Tony crossed his arms across his chest and tried to remember to keep his breathing steady. “Just say what you need to say, Cap.”

Instead of spitting it out and leaving, Steve came and sat cross-legged on the floor across from Tony. He had at least changed out of his uniform, thank god. Hearing Steve say that Tony had to back off would be bad enough; Tony didn’t think he could’ve stood to hear it from _Captain America._

Actually, as it was, with him sitting on the floor, blushing and wringing his hands… Steve looked _sweet_ , even under the circumstances.

Tony felt guilty for questioning whether Steve would still want to be his friend. Tony wouldn’t be in love with Steve if he were the type to be unkind about things like this, after all. Really, if Tony had to have his heart crushed by someone, he couldn’t have chosen a better person.

Ah, pining.

“So, uh,” Steve said, “stop me, please, if I start to horribly embarrass myself, but--Tony, you’re, you know, _interested_ in me, right?”

“Nope,” Tony said immediately.

All the blood drained straight out of Steve’s face. Ah, fuck.

“Okay, yes, fine, yes,” Tony said, raising hands in defeat. “God, I’ll take the heartbreak, just stop _looking_ like that. Christ, Steve.”

Several emotions passed across Steve’s face in the span of about five seconds, none of which Tony was socially competent enough to decipher. Steve’s expression finally settled into a pretty generic-looking frown, and he asked, “Heartbreak?”

Tony wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say, so he made a heart with his hands and then showed the two halves breaking apart.

“What was that?” Steve asked, blinking.

“Heartbreak,” Tony said, doing the motion again.

“What?”

Tony did it again.

“Oh my god,” Steve said. “Stop doing that.”

Tony let his hands fall into his lap. “I don’t know what you want from me here, Cap. I’ll get over this in time. I always do.” That was a lie, but, you know, a _white_ lie.

Or Tony _thought_ it was, but then Steve made the sad puppy eyes and oh god, what, Tony could _not_ win.

“I don’t want you to get over it,” Steve said, practically pouting. _Pouting_. “I want you to go out with me.”

And with that declaration, Tony’s brain crashed. **System failure, data input error, information does not compute.** He was pretty sure Steve was saying things, and he thought he was saying things back, but he had absolutely no idea what those things were or what the conversation was even about. For all Tony knew, they could have been discussing the weather, or plans for world domination, or--

Tony’s brain booted back up when Steve pressed their lips together in _the_ most tender kiss of Tony’s life.

“Oh my god,” Tony said, burying his face in the crook of Steve’s neck. Steve ran his fingers through Tony’s hair, and Tony felt like he was going to die of happiness. “We’re dating?”

“I’d like us to be,” Steve said. “As I’ve been saying for several minutes now.”

“And what did I say, again?”

“A lot of gibberish.”

“Ah,” Tony said. He wrapped his arms around Steve’s chest, and Steve obligingly enfolded Tony in his own arms and pulled him closer.

“For the record, I’m taking this as a yes,” Steve said.

“A yes to what?” Tony asked. He was still feeling a little dazed.

“Us. Being an item.”

“Oh,” Tony said. “You couldn’t just assume my answer was yes from the beginning?”

“Well, I’d hoped, but you were being really weird,” Steve said. “And there was some rather alarming discussion--and… miming?--of breaking hearts. So, you know, excuse me for being thrown.”

“ _My_ heart,” Tony said, pulling back to look Steve in the eye. “ _You_ breaking _my_ heart.” He raised his hands to illustrate the point, but Steve glared at him.

“So help me, Tony, if you do that again, I am going to break up with you.” Tony dropped his hands back down. “Okay, good. I wouldn’t actually have been able to follow through on that threat. _Anyway._ What exactly did you think I came here to say?”

“Uh,” Tony said. “Something along the lines of how you think I’m great and all but we really should just be friends, and it would probably be best if I could stop throwing myself at you every time you say something moderately nice to me?”

“I’m pretty sure you’re familiar enough with what it looks like when someone throws themself at you to know that you have not been doing that to me. It probably would have been simpler for us if you had been,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “But why were you so convinced that I wasn’t interested? Did I do something?”

“No!” Tony said, grabbing Steve’s arm with both hands. “No, you didn’t do anything. I just assumed? I mean, how could you possibly like me? You’re the human embodiment of goodness and heroism, and I’m, you know, _not_ \--”

Steve kissed him again.

“The shield was a metaphor,” Tony said when they parted.

“I figured that out,” Steve said, taking Tony by the elbow and pulling him to his feet.

“For you,” Tony said.

“I got it, Tony,” Steve said, leading them out of the workshop.

“The vibranium represented who you are as a person. You still would’ve been the best, with or without the serum. Where are we going?”

“We’re going to get food from that diner you like so that I can tell you how great of a person _you_ are, and hopefully your mouth will be too full to argue with me.”

“Oh,” Tony said. “So… we’re going on a date?”

Steve sighed loudly, but he dropped his grip from Tony’s elbow and interlaced their fingers instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! I was kind of at a loss with the tags for this one, so if you know of any I could add or think it would be better to remove/change any of the ones I already have, I'm open to suggestions.


End file.
